The Legendary Spearman Returns

Side Story Chapter 101

“What…?!”

A rush of formidable energy struck Raphael, but it didn’t come from the front, where the Sword Emperor was.

“Behind me?”

Raphael instinctively raised his weapons, two swords with distinct abilities; his specialty was dual-wielding.

“Fuck…!”

His opponent was too fast and had extraordinary energy. Raphael couldn’t even think about striking back; his opponent’s spear made it impossible to close any of the distance between him and his opponent.

“Argh!” Raphael groaned in pain when the spear finally managed to stab his shoulder.

The paladins finally managed to close on their mysterious assailant.

“Who are you?!”

“Selim Sanders.”

“Selim? Selim Sanders?”

“Yes, that’s my name,” Selim answered, casually deflecting the swords flying toward him from all directions.

Raphael frowned and raised one of his swords up to his wounded shoulder.

Selim had been confident, but it didn’t take long for his face to tighten. Raphael’s wound was healing. That was impossible—aura destroyed the very cells themselves, making such wounds incredibly difficult to recover from. Even a high priest couldn’t heal a wound that serious.

“I… am Raphael, the Saint of Recovery.” A laurel wreath of light graced Raphael’s brow. He flapped an enormous set of wings—long enough to encompass the entire chamber.

Nevertheless, that didn’t take long for Raphael’s confidence to collapse.

“I-I—?” Raphael saw a barrage of sabers unleashed upon him, eager to slaughter him. Although Raphael wasn’t actually hurt, his back dripped with sweat. He didn’t have to ask where the attacks were coming from.

“Sword Emperor… Duke Tremblin…!”

At some point, the paladins had become helplessly trapped in the center of the council chambers. There were only four—no, five opponents the paladins had to defeat in order to get to their target, Lady Sersiarin; the problem was that every one of those five opponents was remarkably strong.

“Lady Sersiarin!” The Avalon Imperial Knights belatedly arrived at the council chamber.

Raphael bit his lower lip in frustration. “Gabriel, is there a solution for this?”

“…The two people in front are highly renowned figures from the previous generation, but even if we set them aside, the person standing beside the First Prince is Cain de Harry, the Combat Emperor, assuming that my memory serves me correctly.”

“All you had to say was that we don’t have a chance. Shit, where the hell is Bel? If he and Michael were here right now…”

“No, the Combat Emperor is gravely injured, by the looks of it. Since he also seems to be carrying someone on his back, it’s safe to assume that he’s out of the picture,” Gabriel determined.

“…In other words, we do have a chance against them?”

“Well…” Gabriel trailed off, his eyes shining in golden light.

His other title was the “Truth-Piercing Eyes”. He could roughly estimate his opponents’ level without directly fighting them. Raphael held his ground to allow his colleague to work.

“The whole plan is getting messier by the second, shit.”

“Let me ask the paladins from the Hubalt Empire something,” Sersiarin’s elegant voice suddenly interrupted. “Does the Hubalt Empire truly want the entire continent to be drawn into a war?”

“…Hmph, that is exactly what we’re trying to stop here. Why don’t you know that?”

“You’re talking about Lady Aphrodite again.”

“She’s the cause of everything. If she really is innocent, then she should come out in the open and explained herself, but Avalon is stopping that from happening.” Raphael scoffed.

“I understand.”

The paladins blinked, confused.

Sersiarin turned to look at Valmont. “Sir Valmont, I’m sorry, but can you bring Lady Aphrodite here?”

Raphael and Gabriel's eyes widened. They’d thought that considering how prideful Joshua Sanders was, he would never willingly hand over his friend. It wasn’t just about betraying trust between friends. The continent held the Marital God in near fanatical regard, so what would happen if the Martial God yielded and handed Lilith Aphrodite over to the Hubalt Empire?

They would think that the Great Holy Empire of Hubalt was truly the most powerful nation on the continent now. The Paladins’ plan was perfect; all paths lead to victory. When Avalon turned down Hubalt’s demands, they would not only be able to strike Avalon’s heart but also have the justification to start the war. Even if Avalon accepted Hubalt’s request, Hubalt's reputation would rise to untold heights.

“Are we good now?” Sersiarin asked.

“…It would have been so much better if you had cooperated much earlier. We wouldn’t have had to make things ugly.”

“Sheathe your swords and order your men to stand down.”

“No, my men will stand down only after we see the witch.” Raphael grinned and sheathed his sword.

The plan could have gone very awry, but things were working, thanks to her. Raphael was hardly going to let this opportunity go to waste.

‘I’ll buy time. Once we successfully surround Arcadia, it won’t matter if they give up the witch…’

The Four Paladins’ great dream was to raise Hubalt’s flag over the entire continent with Avalon as the starting point.

“…Sir Valmont,” Sersiarin said again.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Bring her. I’m sure she doesn’t want other people to be harmed because of her; she would find death to be a better option.”

“S-Still, isn’t death—?”

“I know because that is how I felt.”

Valmont’s mouth slammed shut. Lady Sersiarin’s previous name was Sersiarin ben Britten—the Tragic Princess. Although she was fine now, she had been born blind yet had the Eyes of Truth, which could be used to read people’s minds. She had been politically exploited by the previous Emperor of Avalon, and many of Avalon’s nobles had continuously tried to take her hostage.

“…Yes, ma’am.” Valmont nodded.

“Thank you.” Sersiarin smiled gently.

After looking at her with sympathetic eyes for a moment, Valmont turned his head to the side. “I’ll leave Lady Sersiarin in your hands.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine on my own here.” Tremblin chuckled quietly.

Sersiarin giggled. “Yes, he is. He’s the Sword Emperor for a reason!”

Valmont vanished like he’d never been there.

“Since it looks like things have been sorted out for the most part, I’ll ask that the rest of the paladins lower their swords. This old man cannot tolerate your discourtesy in the Palace any longer.”

The paladins froze like sculptures as instant, overwhelming pressure struck them. Despite already being over a hundred years old, Tremblin had only become a monster stronger than before.

“Mmm…”

Raphael and Gabriel were certain that they couldn’t guarantee their victory even fighting him together.

“…Put down your swords, everyone.”

“Yes, sir!” the paladins thundered. They placed their swords on the floor and the tension in the air relaxed quite a bit.

Cain let out a long sigh. “Phew… I’ll definitely die of a heart attack someday. It was boring, but I think the time I spent searching for His Majesty is better than this.”

Cain glanced back at Kireua, who was still deep asleep.

“By the way, I’m worried about His Highness. I’m not seeing any obvious wounds on him, so why won’t he regain consciousness…?”

“…Wait, what are you carrying, Combat Emperor?” Gabriel asked.

“Gabriel? What’s wrong?”

“I sense demonic power as Lilith Aphrodite—it’s at least a Demon King.”

Raphael's eyes widened. The paladins froze in the middle of placing down their swords, appalled.

“Wh-What are you talking about? I can’t feel any demonic power right now.”

“It seems that it specializes in hiding its presence, but it can’t fool my eyes. I’m sure that the person that the Combat Emperor is carrying has manifested an Evil Sin’s authority,” Gabriel said with certainty.

“E-Evil Sin!”

The atmosphere took an abrupt turn. The paladins picked their swords up again and released an immense amount of divine power.

“…I definitely told you to put down your swords,” Tremblin said in a low voice, releasing his murderous energy in response.

The paladins felt like they had entered a forest of swords and were standing on the tips of blades. Nevertheless, neither side backed down.

“Combat Emperor! Explain yourself!” Gabriel shouted. “Lady Sersiarin put a lot of effort into defusing the situation, so I’m sure you wouldn’t want to make it worse!”

Cain was stumped. Although it would have been one thing if it weren’t true… it was.

‘What should I do?’

The longer Cain agonized, the more thick the divine power in the council chamber became.

Kireua’s eyes suddenly flew open and a howl emerged from his lips.

“Arghhhhh!”

Cain looked into Kireua’s eyes and found them grotesquely black without a single trace of white.

“This is…?”

Kireua exploded with demonic power that was just as dense as the divine power of the hundreds of paladins there.

“Your Highness!”

“He has definitely manifested an Evil Sin’s authority. Lady Sersiarin, say something!” Gabriel demanded. “The man on the Combat Emperor’s back is the Second Prince of the Avalon Empire. Am I wrong?”

Sersiarin didn’t respond. She just stood up from the throne and watched Kireua with worried eyes.

“Gahhh…! What are you all doing?! Eradicate this evil right now!” Raphael roared.

Cain was carrying the Second Prince on his back, and Selim was confronting the paladins; neither could make any moves, right when the fight could resume at any moment.

“Yes, s—!”

A new person walked through the wide-open door of the council chamber.

“Stop. Nobody move.”

“Martial God…!”

“This is my home, and I didn’t allow any of my guests to draw their swords.” Joshua looked around the council chamber as if he was sentencing them, and then slammed his spear against the floor.